Mum's furious voice rang through the house, as clearly as water. Ginny, who was in her room at the time, merely rolled her eyes and slouched back on her bed. It was not until her mother screamed, “GINEVERA!” that Ginny rolled off her bed and trotted downstairs.

“Mum?” Ginny called. She looked around for her mother. The only things she saw in the kitchen were her twin brothers, Fred and George, sitting on the table with very strange expressions. Ginny looked around, confused. Her mum's voice had been coming from the kitchen, she was sure of it.

“MUM!” she called again.

It was not until Fred started turning red with compressed laughter than Ginny realized she'd been tricked. Fred had recently taken to imitating voices. He was extremely good at this.

“Fred!” Ginny snapped.

He and George burst into laughter, tears of mirth streaming down their cheeks.

“Pretty good, eh?” George did an exaggerated confused face, and both twins laughed again.

Ginny forced a giggle she did not feel and went back to her room. She slammed the door behind her just in time to hear a,

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT IMITATING ME, MISTER?” from Mum.

Ginny walked slowly back upstairs to her bed and sat down again. Nobody seemed to have time for her anymore.

Mum was busy with training to be a Healer at St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Dad had work. Percy had work. The twin's had the joke shop, and the only attention they gave her was teasing.

And Ron was grumpier than ever. Even the owls were away. Ginny wished Hermione was there.

Hermione would hang out with her.

Ginny settled for playing Quidditch by herself in the backyard. She felt like a loser, out there by herself, but there was really nothing else to do.

Ginny would throw the Quaffle down the cornfield as far as she could, then race of to catch it. Soon, her face was flushed and she was having a great time.

The only problem was her broom. It was too slow. But Ginny was such a good Chaser, she made her Cleansweep rip-off look like a Firebolt.

Hours passed, and still Ginny played on her own, outside. She threw the Quaffle, and raced off to catch it. Suddenly she felt an almighty jolt, and her broom snapped. Ginny fell to the ground.

* * *

When Ginny woke up, it was dark, the crickets chirping away in the grass. Her parents hadn't noticed that she was gone, apparently. It was so dark that Ginny did not immediately see the boy kneeling over her. She sat up, and accidentally knocked her head against his.

“Ow!” the boy exclaimed. He sounded familiar to Ginny. “Are you okay?” he asked anxiously. “I put ice on your head, and bandaged up your leg and face, but – ”

“Yeah, fine,” Ginny peered into the stranger's face. He was standing up, an outstretched hand inches away, blond hair glinting in the moonlight. He had helped her, after all. He must've been a kind person to do that. Ginny got to her feet.

The boy slipped his hand into hers, and helped her walk.

Ginny couldn't see where they were going, but let the boy steer her. When he stopped walking, the boy gently sat her down, and Ginny realized that they were on a dock of a pond. He sat down beside her, and put an arm around her waist. “Who are you?” the both asked at the same time.

“Ginny Weasley,” Ginny answered, as the boy said,

“Draco Malfoy,”

They both stared at each other, or at least, what they could see of each other.

“Malfoy?”

He jerked away, looking shocked, embarrassed and angry, but this was nothing compared to what Ginny felt. “Malfoy!” she repeated, and shoved him, and he lost his balance, fell into the pond, and gasped, “Weasley? What the – ”

Ginny stood abruptly and stomped away. Her head didn't even hurt now, it was just buzzing with anger.